by Sadie Grubor
"I'm sorry I don't carry your preferred brand," I deadpan. "I wasn't planning on your Sasquatch-sized ass sexually molesting me."
He places one knee between my thighs and I drop down to my back, gripping the edge of my t-shirt and tugging it over my crotch.
His other knee presses into the bed and he crawls up my body. The heat of his skin sears my inner thighs and the press of his tip at my entrance sends tingles of anticipation over my body.
He pushes forward and I gasp. Then, I get annoyed.
I roll my hips, wanting more than just the tip he's given me.
Eyes closed, lips tight, he breathes heavily through his nose.
I press my hands into the bed and use the leverage to push my hips closer without success.
Oh my God, if he doesn't—
His body comes over mine, and I moan.
Toys are fun, but the weight, heat, and smell of a man…damn, nothing compares to it.
He supports his weight on a forearm next to my head and fists my shirt with his right hand.
Panic pierces the lust.
"Don't," I plea on a whisper.
He presses a kiss to my mouth, chin, jaw, and collarbone, eventually reaching my ear.
"I don't know who gave you this fucked up view of yourself," he releases the shirt and grabs my hip, "but I'm making it my mission to prove to you," he gives my hip a firm squeeze before ghosting his hand up my side, "how much this body turns me on."
Holy shit!
My breath catches in my throat and heat crawls across my skin.
He slides the hand over my stomach and up until he reaches my breast. Palming my bare flesh, he growls, "Especially these."
My body shivers and my pussy clenches, grasping at his teasing tip. Bucking, I gain an inch of him.
"Oh, thank God," I sigh, moving against him.
It still isn't enough.
"You need to get inside me," I order.
"Give up the shirt," he says, his words strained against my neck.
"Asshole," I moan, and he gives a shallow pull and push.
"Is that a request?" He licks my shoulder.
"Maybe later," I pant.
He stills, probably surprised by my response.
While I have him distracted, I grab his hips, hook my legs around his thighs, and pull him inside me.
"Finally," I cry out, digging my nails into his ass.
His teeth latch onto the spot between my neck and shoulder.
When he doesn't move, I jerk my hips, earning a second of friction before his hips pin mine to the bed.
"Move," I beg, slapping his side.
In an unexpected move, Xavier grabs my shirt and yanks. His large hand slips inside the armhole and pushes up.
"What are you—?"
His head jerks up, eyes on mine. "Off," he demands.
The command in his voice sparks my natural defenses. I want to lash out, but the raw heat in his eyes makes me shut the fuck up and give up the shirt.
I help him get the cotton that offends him so much over my head. Once I'm free of the shirt, he throws it away from us like it's on fire.
I bite my lip as I watch his eyes move down my body. His hand moves along my flesh, stopping to squeeze areas I wish I could suck in or photoshop.
I close my eyes, pretending I'm not completely naked for his viewing.
His grip at the back of my left thigh opens them again.
Moving my leg over his hip, he pulls back and thrusts forward.
"Fuck, yes," I slap my hands to the mattress.
Moving in a circular motion, he hits every sensitive spot, catapulting my body into a sexual high.
The hand at my thigh retraces its path back up my body. Stopping at my breast, he grips the mound and covers my nipple with the flat of his tongue. One swipe over the hard tip and I can't remember what I was panicking about moments before.
"Oh my God," I moan, reclaiming his hips with my hands.
Digging my short nails into his skin, I use my arms to push and pull him against me.
His pace quickens, sending my body spiraling into the Pregasmic Abyss—that place where you've gone too far to turn back and if he dared to stop, you would definitely stab him if it meant reaching the euphoric goal.
The faster he thrusts, the quicker I bring my hips up to meet them.
I claw at his sides, so close…so close.
His knees bump against my ass and his body rises over me. My arms fall to my sides.
Without breaking his rhythm, he kneels between my legs and yanks my body against him—hard.
"Fuck," I cry out, fisting the blanket beneath me.
The quick, deep thrusts make me moan his name and look up at his face.
His eyes are trained on my boobs, watching the way his thrusts cause them to bounce.
He reaches under my ass, palms me on each side, and lifts me higher to thrust from a new angle.
"Holy shit!" I scream, stretching my arms over my head.
I need something to hold onto, something to…
A wave of molten bliss erupts inside me, rushing out to every limb. Clenching my eyes shut, my back bows, and my pussy locks onto his thick, hard cock.
His movements shift to frantic, demanding every last twitch, clasp, and tingle from me.
In a deep groan, his hips slam against the inside of my thighs. Once, twice, then he stills, collapsing over me.
His forearms carry his weight so I can enjoy the feel of his body against my sensitive skin.
Sweat covered and panting, I'm pretty sure Xena would give a warrior's call if she weren't still full of Conan Cock.
Sighing, I confess, "You fuck like a champ," and give him a weak pat on the arm.
His body shakes in silent laughter. "Thanks."
Chapter Eighteen
Xavier
After reluctantly pulling out of her body, I dispose the generic condom in the bathroom trash.
I return to my pile of clothes and crouch down to pick up my pants. My eyes follow Sid wrapping a blanket over her body and slipping out of the bed. Standing, I watch her search for her clothes.
I throw the pants over a hotel room chair, round the bed, and hook her around the waist.
"I'm trying to find my shirt," she protests as I drag her back to the bed and tackle her.
Rolling to my side, I pull her against me.
"What are you doing?" she asks, pushing at my chest and looking up at me.
"Going to bed," I inform her, thumbing over my shoulder toward the nightstand clock. "It's pretty fucking late."
"Yeah, so you should probably get back to your room," she quips, trying to roll away.
I wrap my arm over her and pull her back against me.
"Manhandling," she growls.
"I prefer to call is Sidhandling," I counter.
"You wish you could handle me." Her response is quick.
Mine's quicker. "I handled you just fine."
She stiffens, then snaps, "Shut up."
Chuckling, I take a risk and move my arm so I can pull at the blanket around her.
"Get your own," she grumbles, trying to stop me, but I'm stronger.
Successfully retrieving the blanket, I shift closer to her body and place my arm over her again. After a moment, she relaxes against me.
"Tell me about the pills," I say quietly.
Her muscles tense.
"I told you. Anxiety attacks," she clips out.
"Did you take them tonight?" I press.
"How old are you?"
"Quit trying to change the subject."
"Quit trying to be in my business."
Lifting my hand, I brush the hair away from the back of her neck and press my lips against the soft skin. She smells so amazing, I want to rub my face all over her.
When I rest my hand on her hip, she relaxes.
"Let me care," I whisper against her skin.
"Why?" she whispers back.
"Because I already do."
"No,
" she says.
"No, I can't care, or…?"
"I didn't take them tonight."
Curling my left arm under my head, I stay buried in her neck, and say, "Turn thirty-eight in a couple months."
She gasps and twists her head to look over her shoulder.
"I just fucked the crypt keeper," she feigns shock before turning her head back forward on a loud laugh.
I smack her ass, hard, earning a yelp.
"I'm not that old, and I'm pretty sure I fucked you," I clarify.
"Technicality," she retorts.
Running my hand up her hip and over her side, I slip a palm over one magnificent boob and slide one leg between hers before settling against her back.
"Are you comfortable?" she asks, full of sass.
"Fuck yeah," I breathe against her shoulder.
The position I put us in stirs my dick back to life. The moment it touches her thigh all my blood rushes to the tip, lengthening.
Sid reaches back and grabs my dick, making me jump.
"Again? Really? Did you take viagra before you came to my room?" she teases.
Her fingers wrap around me and I press myself into her palm.
"You're turning me into a teenage boy with a constant hard-on." I nip at her shoulder.
She untangles from me and rolls to face me, her hand still on my dick.
Throwing her leg over my hip, she pushes up and reaches for her bag on the bedside table. The position puts her tits in my face. Cupping them both, I draw one into my mouth and suck before moving to do the same to the other.
Both her hands now between us, I lay back down and watch as she rolls a condom down my cock.
"You're right. These condoms aren't a great fit for you, are they?"
"Fuck," I groan when she does this squeeze and twist.
In a smooth as fuck move, she positions me and pushes her hips forward.
I enter her in one swift move and grab her ass with my free hand. My forearm on her thigh, I set a slow and steady pace.
She takes the lead and I release her ass so I can get my hands and mouth back on her tits. When she pushes forward, partially covering my body, the pace increases.
I lean back and glance down. Too dark to see anything, I toss the blanket away. I watch her take my dick in and out of her before reaching between us and rubbing two fingers over her clit.
"Yes, don't stop," she quietly pants, rubbing herself against my fingers.
It's so hot to watch, to feel, and to fucking hear her tell me what she wants.
"Tell me what you want," I say, wanting to hear more.
"Harder," she begs, grinding against me faster.
I comply, putting more pressure and adding a swirl around her swollen bundle.
"Fuck…do that!"
Her hand latches to my shoulder, her forehead presses to the front of my head, and she bounces against me.
Rolling completely to my back and freeing my other arm, I reach up and grab her breast, pinching her nipple between my thumb and finger.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes…" she pants, planting her hands on my chest and rising higher above me.
"Oh."
She slams her hips onto me.
My balls draw up tight and the base of my spine burns.
"Yes!"
She slams down once more and her pussy tightens around me as unrecognizable words and sounds flow from her mouth. Though, I swear, I hear Conan in there at some point.
Grabbing her hips, I guide and thrust up into her.
The burn at my spine explodes into my balls and through my cock.
"Fuck," I groan, grinding her against me.
I slide my hands up her back and pull her against my chest.
Her large breasts, damp from the sweat created while riding me, might be my favorite thing.
Patting her back, I say, "You ride like a pro."
She snorts and pinches my side before rolling off me.
One last trip to the bathroom and I dispose of the second condom. Stepping out, I stop and stare at the sight before me.
Sid stands, back to me, arms over her head, and my white t-shirt sliding over her body. The cotton hem glides down her skin, slowing at the curve of her hip before spilling over and down to her thighs.
I've had this woman three times tonight, but this sight makes my chest burn and my balls ache. I have never been more jealous of cotton in my life.
She turns, catching me, and places her hands on her hips.
"Don't say a damn thing," she points a finger at me, "I don't know what you did with my shirt."
Just when I thought I couldn't want her more, she throws attitude—and I love every fucking word.
"You want me to find it for you?" I offer, a grin twitching at the corner of my mouth.
"Only if you plan on wearing it," she quips.
On hands and knees, she crawls up the bed. Like the teenage boy she turns me into, my grin spreads over my face. Images of her bent over in front of me flash in my mind.
"Hey…" The threat in her word pulls me out of my own head.
My eyes move from her ass to her face.
Rolling her body, she slides under the blanket, and says, "Stop looking at me like you want to fertilize my eggs."
I chuckle and join her on the bed. Moving onto my side to face her, I put one arm over her stomach and place my right hand over her left breast. With a sigh, I settle in next to her body.
"Really?" she asks, tapping my hand.
"Yep," I answer, squeezing for emphasis.
"Too bad for you," she retorts, and turns over, "I'm a stomach sleeper."
I smile against her back and readjust.
"Seriously?" she asks, disbelieving.
"I've got years of experience."
"Slut," she insults.
"It's paying off." I squeeze her boob once again.
Her chest shakes in silent laughter.
She pulls the blanket up over her head and in my face.
"What the hell?" I wiggle my head under the blanket and join her.
"I like a cocoon of warmth," she explains. "Now, shut up, I'm tired."
Under the cover, I bury my face between her shoulder blades, throw my right leg over her left, and breathe deeply.
When her honeysuckle scent mixes with mine from the t-shirt, my body contracts around her.
Fuck, if that isn't something I could get used to smelling every day of my life.
"Lucifer's Loins, it's so hot," Sid's complains, rousing me from sleep.
The blanket disappears from our bodies and bright light assaults me.
"Christ, woman," I grumble, burying my face into her back.
"You're like damn hellfire," she insults with her sleep-raspy voice.
She's not completely wrong.
I unfold my body from hers, move to my back, and pull the sheet to my waist, allowing the cool air to chill my overheated body.
"Can't help it," I say through a yawn.
Sid inches to the edge of the bed and sits up. Her arms stretch over her head before she stands.
"Give me a minute and I'll give you back your…" her words die off when she turns around, her eyes focused on my lower body.
"What?" I ask. "It's morning."
She meets my eyes and the flash of lust I see in them makes me smile.
With a small shake of her head, she starts toward the bathroom.
"I'll give you your shirt back," she says, finishing her thought.
Sitting up and onto the edge of the bed, I swipe my sweats from the floor.
"Keep it," I say, running a hand through my hair and over my beard.
At the bathroom door, she watches me put on my pants.
"I've got more," I add, moving to grab my cell and card key from the floor. Straightening, I see the card for Sid's room on the side table and grab it.
Turning around, I find Sid watching me. Sure I'm busted, I hesitate for a moment before I go to her.
I slip my hand around her neck and use my th
umb to tilt her head. The lack of emotion in her eyes makes me frown. Running my thumb along her jaw, I lick my dry lips before bringing them to hers.
She tries to stay still, play it cool, but the moment my tongue touches her lips, she opens up—and it's not just her mouth opening. It's the passionate side of Sid, every emotion spoken in a silent move of her body.
I break the kiss and give her neck a light squeeze before backing up to the door.
Her eyes instantly shutter, all the emotion showing in them before disappearing. It really is the window to the soul. At least, for Sid it is.
"Breakfast?" I blurt.
A small spark tries to flare across her eyes. She stamps it out and shakes her head.
"I'm good," she mumbles, emotionless.
Before I can argue, she steps into the bathroom and closes the door.
I stand staring at the door until I hear the water come on.
Sidra
Shower running in the background, I lean against the bathroom door.
You idiot. You're doing it again, and all while trying to push the last mistake out of your life.
The close of the hotel room door is like a starting gun for my tears. They spill over my cheeks in silent mourning for my heart. It pounds hard in my chest in what I'm sure matches his retreating steps.
"Get yourself together," I shout, slapping the door behind me and pushing away. I pull his shirt over my head, fist the material, and smell it.
"God damn it!" I toss the shirt against the wall.
If it had been anything more substantial, I'd be paying damages to the hotel. The shirt hits the mirror and falls to the vanity.
"Why does he, of all fucking people, make me feel like this?"
I grip the shower curtain and pull back, the rings protesting against the metal bar.
Why did I think he wouldn't leave me this morning?
My brain fucking knew it, but not my heart.
Stupid fucking heart.
"Just pump the blood, you bitch. I don't need you getting involved in anything else," I grumble. "If I could stab you without killing myself, I would."
Reaching for my shampoo, I vow not to cry over the big ass ginger-squatch again. Well, after this shower, I won't—cool, calm, collected, in control Sid will emerge.
As I slip on my favorite baggy boyfriend fit jeans, a knock on the door surprises me.
